Wicked
by Spykester
Summary: The wicked games we play in the name of passion...H/D slash.


Wicked  
  
  
Disclaimer: She owns, I don't. Words are taken from Angelus, which he spoke in the brilliant Buffy the Vampire Slayer episode Passion and were written by Ty King.  
  
Author's Note: I wrote this after watching The Simpsons. Mmm, go figure. Also my first attempt at actual slash, although Perdition is building up to it, so be nice!  
  
Summery: Oh, those wicked games we play for the sake of passion. Draco's POV.  
  
Rating: R - lemon/yaoi slash of the H/D kind. All flamers will be banished, but not before I've had a good laugh at their expense.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Passion, it lies in all of us. Sleeping, waiting and though unwanted, unbidden, it will stir, open its jaws and howl.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
I watch you quietly as you sleep none too soundly. You thrash a little and moan...ahh, how I love to hear you moan, whether it is in the throes of orgasm or pain or a beautiful crescendo of both those elements...it chills my already frozen bones and increases my lustful passion fuelled by the darkest and purest hatred.  
  
You suddenly spring up, open your eyes ((oh Merlin, such a beautiful green. No shade on the natural earth compares)) and they settle upon me. You look slightly puzzled, and perhaps just a little afraid. The hint of fear sparks arousal within me...the dangerous beast of passion that exists within us both is stirring. An inferno born out of hellfire shall rage, is already raging.  
  
How did all this begin? I often question myself and I'm sure he does too. Of course, we tell ourselves it was that night ((it burned long before that, but we both ignored it I think)), when I'd snuck into Gryffindor Tower with the intention of maybe defiling something precious of his...instead he had caught me, and there had been a fight and suddenly we were kissing...thunder suddenly began to crash outside matching the ferocity of our love making. Our tongues locked in an erotic duel as both fought for dominance.  
  
I'd never seen this side of you, the animalistic passion, nor had I ever succumbed to my own. It just is not done within my family...  
  
My thoughts scatter as you crawl seductively across your bed towards me. Typically, you now show no fear despite the many times I've clawed deep furrows upon your back and drawn rivers of blood as we fucked. I've hurt you in many different ways, so wonderfully...wickedly and yet you never turn away. Even when I took your virginity that night there was no trace of fear upon your countenance.  
  
You are truly a Gryffindor.  
  
"So you came," You hiss into my ear, gently running your tongue over my ear. I shiver a little and hiss back.  
  
"What can I say? I'm so very, very bored." I replied, trying and failing to sound a little neutral. I never know who the corrupter is...him or me. I started out as the corrupter, never expecting him to want it...need it.  
  
"Hm, then allow me to entertain you, Malfoy," You speak my name with pure, unadulterated wickedness within your eyes. You have no idea how much that turns me on.  
  
You undress achingly slowly. My stormy eyes fixed intently, not wanting to miss anything, although I've seen it all before. But my insatiable passion demands to see it again until I can stand it no longer...to merge my snow-white skin with yours - the shade of the purest golden bronze. To plunge myself into your depths and watch you writhe beneath me and cry my name ((my first name)) in a mixture of delight and hatred.  
  
Finally, you are done, and now naked you lie back and patiently wait for me to undress and join you. I hate you for making this more difficult as my eyesight is now clouded in a haze of lust. Sometimes I hate you so much it hurts, and I tell you so.  
  
"You make me feel the shame my dear Draco...personally I think it's delicious, don't you?"  
  
"Absolutely," I breathe as I finally take off my own clothing, ripping it a little in my haste, my mother will not be pleased. I join him on the bed and our lips meet, our mouths burn with fury. A storm can be heard gather, and approaching the castle. Lighting flashes, the violence of it all mimicking the violence in which me and Harry Potter always make love.  
  
We always do it facing each other, a wicked desire to watch as we pull the other into oblivion with satisfaction - we like to make each other lose control, the absolute, ultimate high. I laugh when I remember how Potter hadn't known men could do it face-to-face. That sweet innocence that had slowly been eroded by his buried passion.  
  
Finally, we scream our completion together, the sound thankfully drowned by a thunderous crash from outside. Lighting flares up the scene and we both smile as we gaze upon ourselves with loathing and with love...I wonder, where does one end and the other begin?  
  
I have no answer.  
  
I stay for a while, perhaps longer than is strictly necessary, Harry curled up next to me. By the time I have decided to leave he has fallen asleep, this time peaceful. I laugh when I think that this is all he needs to end his nightmares...at least, for a little while.  
  
Strange, what such wicked passion does to you.  
  
Wicked. I savour that word, it's so right to describe out...affair, if it could be called that.  
  
So wicked.  
  
So right.  
  
Have I destroyed a hero? Am I the Iago defiling the hero? No, it was in him all along and I merely brought it out by a strange chance.  
  
Tomorrow, our passion will be strictly hate, but love...hate...really, when you scrape them down to there bare bones, they are both simply forms of flaring, burning passion.  
  
Me and Harry...we merely present both sides of that same coin.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
It speaks to us, guides us. Passion rules us all, and we obey. What other choice do we have?  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Finis 


End file.
